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by AWiseNaptaker
Summary: Somewhere dangling at the edge of her lips are the words I love you. She finds the voice to speak them on the lips of another, but only in a dream. AU. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

There's a whisper of _I love you _hanging precariously at the edge of her lips. As she gazes around the study quad, she longs to let those words fall out to every stranger that dares to catch her eyes. Her tongue dips out to meet it, licking away the remnants of what was there. Another pause, another stranger glances her way as they walk passed. Eyes barely ghost over her, barely notice her sitting there amongst a mountain of required texts across the way, and she has to bite her lip to keep from speaking it.

Her eyes look back down. She can't stand to be noticed any more. She's tired, weary and worn down to the bone. The words she sees in the pages of a book she's read before aren't coherent to her mind. They don't make sense. And yet, when she looks to her coffee, she can see the words _I love you _bubbling up in the foamy froth. It seduces her. Those words convince her and so, as daring as the people who had met her eyes in the study quad, she tips the lukewarm liquid back and drinks the dredges of her coffee. Bitter, and black. The taste is comforting. She finds loneliness in the bottom of her cup. Faintly, she decides, studying will have to wait.

It takes her a minute to secret the books away in a bag that's seen better days. She dangles a strap loosely across her shoulders as she stands, sweeping the strands of her hair out of the way of what would've been catastrophe, and takes a second to politely push her chair in. She grabs the empty cup to find a tear at the bottom and a mess on the table. A stain. She sighs a heavy hurricane of air, the wall in her head that keeps her from thinking is begging for release, and it crashes out of her mouth in a yawn. She moves to leave. The cup is thrown in a stray trash can on the way out.

Her steps are light and fluid, despite how she drags her feet as she walks. The air around her is static, the darkness that was late evening giving way to the start of a new day. The world around her is yet grey, the calm before the storm. She ponders this, that light will soon be stretching out its loathsome hands across the still sleeping campus, and wishes to find the comforts of her bed before that happens. The earliest of risers starts to sing, a little bird with brown and red on its wings, mourning the end of another night. Celebrating the beginning of a new day.

Two blocks through the labyrinth of a familiar world and she comes to her apartment building. People have begun to sneak from the corners and hideaways and safeties of their homes, now, as they tip toe down the early morning streets. They're dressed and ready to begin their day. Eyes alive and voices rushed and hearts beating out the steady rhythm of a flat tire somewhere in the city. She stands outside the building as they walk by, searching through her bag for her keys. There's a startling moment of realization. The doors before her will remain locked, her keys tucked snugly in her apartment where she wishes she could be. She won't be sleeping any time soon.

So she groans and rubs at the bags beneath her eyes, sticky with the need to sleep. Her nose catches the scent of caffeine (loneliness, she remembers), and wonders if she shouldn't get herself another cup to continue dragging on through this neverending day. She can't help looking up to find the source, and she sees eyes nearly as empty as her own staring back at her. They sparkle more with something like curiosity. Recognition. The woman takes a sip of her drink as she leans against the building, watching the stranded other.

_"Bon matin," _the woman says after she takes another swallow. _"Long day?"_

And there, at the strike of conversation dangling at the edge of her lips are the same words she's tried to forget. _I love you, _she doesn't say. She doesn't dare to say. Not like the woman who dares to see her standing lost before what should've been an escape, not like the woman who dares to start a conversation with a woman who's lost. Instead she gives the heavy sigh again and says, _"You have no idea."_

Somewhere in the white of the stranger's smile is a challenge. _Try me._


	2. Chapter 2

The world became evanescent, and she walked through it in a dream. A burst of laughter coming from a child as he held his mother's hand. The mewling of a kitten in a cat carrier as it was moved from a cab. The air was sharp. The weather cold and crisp. She drew her red coat closer around her in an attempt to escape the early morning chill. How could the day be so fresh and clear, she'd wondered, when she'd yet to fall asleep?

_"My name is Cosima," _she says wearily, somehow managing the words through a fog. The stranger looks at her with a tangibility, as if finding familiarity in knowing the taste of loneliness in the bottom of a cup of coffee. She worked up a twitch of her lips, a ghost of a smile.

_"Co-Si-Ma," _the other tries, teasing each syllable in a gentle experiment. _"Bon matin, Cosima. I am Delphine." _Her hand crooks a slender finger at Cosima, beckoning to her. Cosima's feet move before she's conscious about what she's doing. Her ears pop and it's almost as if there's a pleasant hum inside them, ears plugged with water. She feels breathless, weightless, dazed. The warm aroma of coffee brought air to her lungs. _"You are tired, non? Come, stay with me and sleep."_

Delphine's hand grabs hers, gentle yet persistent. Cosima follows her inside the building next door and up an elevator. The world around her begins to fade into the static of a television, of a lost radio station. Blurs and crackles of seemingly monotone colors and the changing of channels. Upon one door being closed, another one opens. A stranger welcomes her into their bed. Delphine's lips are soft and sweet, feather-light touches upon either of her cheeks. A welcome. A goodbye.

This is usually about the time she wakes up.

* * *

><p>"Cosima?" a voice exclaims, and she groans as she throws a pillow over her head. "Wake up," it continues to pester. "You're going to be late for class! Again!"<p>

"Go away Scott!" she replies in annoyance, louder than she'd intended. There's a rapid, heavy pounding against the door annoying her. Cosima rolls over, attempting to ignore it.

"Come on, Cosima," Scott whines, voice muffled through the door. "We're starting a new lab today. That means partners. I don't want to get paired up with Nev again." There's a pause where neither of them says anything. "Cosima?" She keeps her eyes shut tight, one hand clenched in the pillow she presses hard to her head. There's another pause before Scott gives in. Cosima can faintly hear a resigned sigh as his footsteps patter away. Her grip on the pillow loosens, her eyes blink open to abstract shapes. Her vision is more blurred than it usually is without her glasses, due to the traitorous stinging in her eyes.

She doesn't mean to be rude to him, but the mornings after she has this dream are always the hardest.

A silent sob is choked in her throat as the tears start to fall, and the memory of it fades away until she can't remember what she dreamed of at all. All that's left of the residual is the bitter taste of coffee on her tongue, and the words _I love you _on her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

"Every time I have this dream I wake up broken-hearted," Cosima laments to her sister and her sister's brother. They're sitting at Felix's paint stained place on the second floor of a renovated warehouse. He's holding a whiskey, drinking generously and refilling his glass each time it empties. Sarah's not paying much attention. She has a phone in her hand, checking it repeatedly. If Cosima had to shepherd a guess, Sarah was waiting on a call from her foster mother regarding Kira.

Cosima has a joint in hand and takes a long, very needed drag of it before breathing out a curl of smoke. It's relaxing to her nerves. Every time she has this dream she finds herself shaken to the core. "It's like I've fallen in love with someone I can't be with, someone that I can't remember, and every time I wake up it's to the knowledge that they don't actually exist outside my dreams."

This morning after attending her Biology 203 lab class late, she found herself catching the Metro to downtown. She and her sister aren't exactly close per se. Then again they haven't exactly known each other for long either, but there was a mutual understanding between them. Despite their differences, both women had a mischievous, 'go with the flow' kind of attitude. Or maybe not. This could be one of the things Cosima thought they shared but didn't. It was interesting to her to see how the nature vs. nurture came into play when it came to their personalities. Still, Sarah was her sister and vowed to be there for her when she could.

"Oi, Cos, I know you're the smart one but you know that the people in your dreams are people that actually exist in life, yeah?" Sarah is the one to ask this question as she kicks back and leisurely rests her feet on the coffee table. "Regardless of whether you talked to them or not, a look is all it takes. So whoever the twat is that you fell for is someone you've seen before." Cosima had been nodding up to this point, having learned this previously. However, as Sarah went on, Cosima looked more and more unsure about the implications. Sarah caught the uncertainty on her face. "Or... didn't you see them?"

"I don't know, maybe," Cosmia takes a moment to think about it before shaking her head. "No. I don't remember seeing her face. Everything about the dream's all fuzzy."

Felix waggles his eyebrows, "So it's a her then?"

Cosima rolls her eyes and fights the urge to chuck the pillow she's leaning on at him. "Yeah, Fee, definitely a her." She motions to herself, "Nothing new about that de facto." She thinks for a second as she passes the joint to Felix, who takes a couple brief drags on it as she ponders something. "Maybe I can't remember who she is because I haven't actually met her when I'm, you know, awake. Or maybe I don't talk to her on a day to day basis." She shoots a worried look at nothing and noone in particular, "Or maybe she's just a stranger I passed in the street? What if I never end up meeting her?"

Felix hands the joint back to her, along with the bottle of whiskey.

Sarah nonchalantly get's up when her phone starts to ring, "Then do what I'd do if I had a dream fling."

"What's that?" Cosima asks, her face hot from the alcohol and the worried frown beginning to slip off her face from the cannabis.

Sarah gives a devilish grin as she answers her phone, "Fuck 'er."

She leaves the room as Cosima and Felix break out in rounds of laughter. That seemed funnier than it was. Sounding like a better idea than Cosima had even considered.

* * *

><p>That night Cosima has the same recurring dream. The one where she works until the early hours of the morning, leaving the study quad of the library with caffeine on her tongue and a bag full of books on her shoulder. Utterly exhausted, she walks to her apartment building to find herself locked out. And then she sees the woman leaning on the building next door who smiles at her, and she follows her inside.<p>

She doesn't remember the words. Doesn't remember her name. Doesn't remember what the woman looks like. The red coat she wears stays the same, but all the other little things that make up the dream change. She falls in love with a stranger in what seems like five minutes, a velvety voice in her ears and a blurry face. Except... something is different? Almost as if she feels the urge to dance.

A slow dance, but a proper one. One hand on the waist drawing the other closer, one hand holding another as they twirl in dizzying circles. Dressed to the nines and a small band at a gathering or some social function. Maybe it's just a song on the radio. There's a hot breath on her ear as someone leans down to whisper sweet things to her.

When she wakes up in the morning she doesn't remember that when she reaches over in her bed to hold her lover close that there's no one actually there, that they only danced together in her dreams.

And yet, that's something out of the nothing that she remembers. A dance.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN<strong>

To Julielein**: Hey, thanks for being the first reviewer! Glad you're liking this so far. The pace is prolly gonna be slow, but there's definitely gonna be more soon to come. Hope you continue to enjoy~**

To Everyone else**: Thanks for reading- feel free to fav or review 'cause it's not gonna cost you anythin! Except maybe your soul. There will gradually be more writing with each chapter I add as the story progresses, so don't get used to a thousand words or less in a chapter. Also, I don't have a beta so I'm sorry for any mistakes I make. Hope life's well for y'all. Maybe you could celebrate the day with sunshine and cookies.**

**Or just cookies, because food is fantastic. But, if you're one of those people that are lactose intolerant or have diabetes or for some reason can't eat milky foods or lots of sugar, then celery with peanut butter works too. Unless peanut butter has, like, milk or something in it. Or you're allergic to peanut butter. Or you don't like celery. Then maybe don't eat it at all. But, well, maybe you should eat something because I don't want you to starve, but don't hurt yourself by trying to eat a shit-ton of cookies or a measly stalk of celery with some peanut butter thrown on it because who eats plain ol' celery by itself? (Me)**

**Geez, wow, okay. So maybe just celebrate the day by breathing while I figure something better out? Can lactose intolerant people actually eat peanut butter because I'm genuinely curious?**

**I'm going to hurt myself if I go on. This is why I shouldn't write author's notes.**

**But have a great day! Yep. Okay. Now I'm done. ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

It's the next day, and she's late. Again. So very, very late.

Most of the class is dozing, though some shoot her irate looks as she barges in through the door in a blur of motion and fantastically trips over her professor's desk. Her clumsiness draws the class' attention to her. Dr. Leekie stops mid lecture as she scrambles to her feet. "I am so sorry for being late again, professor! I was just-" Dr. Leekie merely shakes his head with barely contained amusement, well used to Cosima's late arrivals, and motions for her to take a seat. With her face painted red in a blush, she nods and does just that.

"As I was saying, it is imperative to understand that the term 'rapid' must be looked at in the geological sense," he continues, clicking on a remote to change the projection slide. It flipped to a familiar image of a Galapagos finch with a short beak and brightly colored wings. "Meaning, the evolution of a species would take place over thousands of years versus hundreds of thousands or millions of years. This theory, in comparison to Darwin's phyletic gradualism which lacks evidence due to gaps in the fossil record, is..."

Cosima had been quietly making her way up into the back aisle of the lecture hall where there was a plethora of open seats. She was normally one to sit attentively at the front of the class, actively participating and questioning during Dr. Leekie's lessons. However, she'd had that dream again last night. They'd been happening much more frequently lately. In fact, with every brief blink of her eyes she felt the foreign presence of a beautiful woman in her mind. A small, pearly white smile and a voice she can't discern. She wonders how her mind could've come up with something that she knew in her dreams was breathtaking, even if she can't remember it.

"Neolution. A philosophy of today for tomorrow, rooted in our past, in the evolution of the human organism."

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice a backpack left out in the middle of the third row's aisle. Her feet got caught in the strap mid step and for the second time that day she went crashing to the floor, an arm accidently knocking down a collection of notes from the table opposite. Dr. Leekie, at the front of the room, ignored the commotion and continued on with the lecture.

"But, before we go on to the future, let me take you back to the Greek philosopher Plato in his twilight years."

Cosima's glasses were thrown from her face, and she hastily felt around for them to no avail. "I am so sorry-" that seems to be her mantra for the day. "- I wasn't watching where my feet were going and I didn't see that backpack out in the aisle. I swear everything I trip over is out to get me because I run into literally, well figuratively, _everything_." As she was looking for her glasses, she'd been gathering the papers she'd knocked over into a pile. Everything was blurry. When she went to hand the papers up to the figure whose stuff she knocked over, she misjudged the distance and ended up smacking that person in the face. The papers went everywhere again and the person she smacked had a hand to the site of the attack, their cheek. "Oh my God! My bad, totally and irrevocably my bad! Are you okay?"

"Poor old Plato was going blind, going lame, and losing his hearing!"

The figure rubbed briefly on their cheek before nodding (at least Cosima thinks they nodded) and helping her stand up. Their hands were so soft, Cosima couldn't help noticing, but she put it in the back of her mind. Cosima wanted to lean back down and start collecting the papers again to clean the mess she made, but the person placed a hand on her arm to stop her. "I am good," the woman says with a tint of amusement. Was that an... accent? Cosima nearly shuddered. "But maybe I should pick those up, non?"

"Now imagine if he knew we could correct his sight, restore his hearing, and replace his ailing body parts with titanium ones."

Cosima gives a sheepish laugh, reaching a hand up to tug at the dreads tickling the back of her neck. "Yeah, that's probably a better idea," she says cheerfully. "I have all the grace and poise of Godzilla, and I think I terrorised the general populous enough for one day."

"Plato would've thought we were gods! But we're not."

"Godzilla?" the woman asks in a hushed tone and Cosima can hear a smile in her voice.

"We're just fundamentally flawed human beings."

"Yeah, you know, the giant Japanese dinosaur monster thing that destroys everything in its path? It's interesting, actually, because Godzilla is actually a metaphor for nuclear weapons," Cosima had been, up to this point, waving her arms around as the woman picked up the papers. She feels something pressing into her hand, and Cosima recognises the familiar shape of her glasses that had just been handed to her. Cosima shoves them onto her face, blinking as her eyes adjust, just in time for Dr. Leekie to call her out.

"Cosima!"

She peers over at him from where she was standing at the side of the lecture hall next to her unfortunate victim, seat still not yet taken.

"Your glasses, for example, make you somewhat... um... platonic," she could tell Dr. Leekie meant it in the best way possible. This was her professor's way of regaining her attention to the lecture. With her finger, she delicately reshifted the position of her glasses on her nose. "But within the very near future, I'll be able to offer you the ability to see into a spectrum never before seen by the naked eye. Infrared, x-rays, ultraviolet... Are you interested?"

Cosima gives a sarcastic grin, "Maybe I'll just start with basic Lasik."

"Or maybe," he gives a pointed glare. "You could start by taking your seat."

She replies with a mock salute and a half-apologetic glance to the blonde woman she'd attacked before she continues walking up to the back row. The moment she sits down, her thoughts trail back to her dream. Leekie drones on about Darwin, Mendel, evolutionary theories and neolution. Cosima should be taking notes in preparation for the essay due in a week since it's going to amount to a hefty portion of her final average, as well as there being some sort of recognition for the five best students in each of Dr. Leekie's classes, but she easily tunes him out.

Cosima forgets about her encounter with the woman in the third row.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN<strong>

**Thanks for reading, following or favoriting! Please leave a comment if you like this. Sorry for any mistakes. (Also, I'm attempting to keep my rambling mind in check today in terms of writing an Author's Note. Lol, how am I doing so far?)**

Elenadlm: **Glad I can make you speechless! Lol, no idea if it's actually that good just yet, but so long as you enjoy this the world will keep on spinning. Thanks for leaving a review! To be continued soon.**

Guest: **All will be revealed in time~ I'm pleased to know you like my fic! Hope you continue to enjoy it. :)**

**Feel free to leave a thought! Unless it's something really crazy, I will definitely reply.**


	5. Chapter 5

Hours later, Cosima was lounging on her bed. Her limbs were sprawled out across the unruly sheets, her laptop open on the pillow beside her to a blank word document. In her hand was an apple, pristine and ripe. She threw it in the air rhythmically, catching it and waiting a beat before tossing it up again. Her brows were furrowed in concentration. If one were to walk into her apartment, they'd walk into a room clouded with a telltale scent though there wasn't a joint in sight. She tossed the apple up in the air again. When the fruit came down, she caught it, but rather than continue her game of catch she took the fruit in hand and brought it to her mouth. Teeth bit deliciously into the apple before she threw it up into the air again, no longer pristine.

She'd been trying for the past half hour to think of a topic to write for her essay. Though she could write a well worn topic that would be easy to cover and would be sure to give her the grade she desires, Cosima wanted to have the slightest bit of creativity in her assignment. She could write something that she could easily cover, but where would be the fun in that? Cosima takes another bite of the apple.

Eyes that are only slightly red from her drug induced relaxation flit about the room in search for inspiration. What is something original, that would be interesting to write about, that wouldn't bore entirely everyone who read it, that Dr. Leekie might also appreciate? Her eyes land on a recent photograph of her with Sarah and Kira and Felix.

People used to believe that the process of taking a photograph could steal a part of that person's soul. It had to do with a reflection in a mirror; the belief that when one looked into a mirror they weren't seeing themselves or light, but a reflection of their soul. Since cameras capture a person's reflection in a photograph it was believed that they captured part of that person's soul, which in turn made a mockery of God or spirits or the afterlife. Perhaps it's a bit morbid to think about. When people died mirrors were covered out of respect and to prevent the soul from becoming trapped.

This lead to her thinking about how people who couldn't afford to have their picture taken when they were alive did so after they passed away, their loved ones positioning their bodies into something resembling life. Was it safe, then? When they passed, was it safe to take a photograph of a person and capture a part of their soul? To cling to some remanence of a loved one despite them being gone? What part of a person's soul would be left? Considering the circumstances, what would be left at all but a picture of something dead?

Cosima moved to take another bite of her apple as she swung her legs from the comfort of her bed in order to walk over to where the photograph sat on her dresser. She looked at it closely, peering at what she could see of it carefully without attempting to move her glasses from where they perched at the top of her head. She clumsily placed the half eaten apple on the corner of her dresser, and wiped her hands hastily on her sweatpants, before picking the delicate frame up.

In the photo, Sarah stood in the middle with Kira clinging to her side. Felix stood behind Kira, rolling his eyes and wearing a reluctant smile. Cosima and Sarah are standing awkwardly next to each other, both new to the other and unsure how to act. Cosima's glasses are crooked, and her hands looked flighty. As in, her hands stopped for a moment but could barely keep still, hesitantly placed where they were in the front of her. Kira, though holding onto her mother tightly in a hug, had her head looking curiously over at Cosima with something akin to knowing on her face.

Her thumb smoothed away some grease from the glass, attempting to make the image a little clearer despite it's already sharp focus.

Though most people no longer believed in a camera's ability to capture someone's soul, Cosima wondered if there wasn't some truth to the matter.

At the beginning of the semester, Cosima's only family were located hundreds of miles away in a San Franciscan suburb. As an only child of two parents, both of whom were mildly though endearingly eccentric scientists, Cosima found extended family in her friends. They were often brief friendships, for one reason or another. The biggest reason perhaps being that Cosima had the heart of a nomad, mind always wandering and thoughts always questioning. It was difficult, many could pertain, for her to sit still for long. Her friends didn't mind. She floated from one group to the next, charming people with her uncanny malleability of fitting in wherever she went. Cosima wasn't popular by any means. Sometimes her friendships didn't last upon the discovery of her sexuality. However, in this method, Cosima had a large network of friends and thus a large network of extended family.

That was back in San Fran. Needless to say, things change. She's lost contact with the majority of what she'd once called family, with the only people who she regularly keeps in contact with being her parents. She doubts that anyone from her previous life back home will remember her as anything other than the charming daydreamer, future scientist.

When she came here to Minnesota a few years ago, there had been the strangest feeling eating away at her insides. It wasn't until she'd found her new supplier for her occasional smoking habits that she'd realized why. The man confused her with someone else. Long story short, it lead up to her eventual meet and greet with Sarah, the sister she never knew she had. Her actual blood family. It was easy to understand why they could be confused with one another, Cosima thought, as she looked at the photo. She and Sarah were virtually the same in appearance, bar Sarah's lack of glasses and Cosima's dreadlocks. They could be clones.

Clones.

Now there's a thought... maybe she'll save it for her dissertation.

* * *

><p>"Hi, I'm here for my ten thirty appointment?"<p>

"Name?"

"Cosima Niehaus? Uh, it's spelled N-I-E-H-A-U-S," Cosima gives a charming smile to the receptionist as she leans against the counter. She slides her ID and insurance card over for him to look at. He takes a moment to double check the information before proceeding to type something into the computer. Cosima take a moment to glance around the waiting room of the health clinic they have on campus. The room is small, tidy, and has the faint smell of cleaning products. There's a young mother sitting with her son, playing with a wire bead roller coaster cube in the corner. He gives a childish laugh as two of the beads crash into each other and his mother makes engine sounds. In a strange way, the scene is very interesting. Cosima smiles at the sight.

"Okay," the receptionist says, catching her attention. "You're just here for a regular appointment, right?"

"Yep," she confirms, shifting her feet. "Just a physical."

He hands her back her ID and insurance card and waves to a seat unenthusiastically, "Great. Take a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly." Without another word, he goes back to typing on his computer. Cosima saunters over to a chair at the opposite end of the room and takes a seat, waiting for her turn.

It doesn't take long, unsurprisingly. The clinic isn't busy with patients, so the doctor's hands were free. A nurse calls her in through a door next to the receptionist's window, drawing the attention of the mother and her son. She waves at the two cheerfully as she walks by. The boy gives her a gaped tooth smile in reply, dropping a bead where it _swooshed _down the wire as he waved back. The mother gives her a strange look.

She's lead to a room in the back, down the hall and to the left. The door says it's room three. Cosima kicks off her shoes and sits on the canvas covered cot, waiting patiently for her doctor to show. It takes a little longer this time. Almost childlike, she swings her feet to and fro, gazing around the room with some interest. When the door bursts open suddenly fifteen minutes later, Cosima startles and nearly falls to the floor.

"Cosima Niehaus?" The man says, walking in with a clipboard in his hands and a stethoscope around his neck. Cosima nods, verifying his information. "I'm Doctor Raj. I'll be conducting your physical examination today." Without further adieu he asks her to stand on a scale and proceeds to measure her height and weight. "Have you been eating regularly? Have you been experiencing any problems going to the bathroom? Any headaches recently?"

She shakes her head negatively as the examination continues. Her glasses stay on when she's asked what line she can read on the eye chart, but come off when the doctor begins checking her reflexes. He shines a light in her eyes to see her pupils constrict. Cosima attempts not to fidget at the uncomfortable feeling of the otoscope when he begins to check out her ears. Doctor Raj makes light conversation as he does so. She tells him that she's pursuing her PhD in evolutionary development, which he takes in stride, talking about his own college days. She tells him she needs a physical in order to sign up for her next and final semester, which he understands. He takes the stethoscope off from around her neck, plugs one end into his ears, and presses the other end to an area on her chest.

"Breathe in deep," he says, which she does. His brows furrow. "Hold," she does, with little difficulty. "And breathe out." She releases it. "Again," he presses the stethoscope to a different area of her chest. "In, hold, and release." This time, her breaths are a little more ragged. "Do you exercise regularly?"

"Sometimes," she says in reply, as he again moves the stethoscope, listening carefully.

"Do you smoke?"

She meets his gaze, "Just pot for me."

He doesn't comment on it, but he smirks as he continues to press the stethoscope around. He looks a little concerned about something when he removes the device and hangs it back around his neck. He reaches behind him and grabs a wooden popsicle stick, "Open your mouth and say, 'Ah'." As she does so, he presses the stick flat against her tongue and shines a flashlight into the back of her mouth. "Your throat looks a little inflamed and your breathing sounds watery. Have you been sick recently? Coughing, running nose?"

Cosima shrugs a little and replies as he removes the stick, "Yeah, I've been coughing a little. I think I caught a bug from the snow."

He throws the popsicle stick away and stands up, beginning to walk to the door and prompting Cosima to get up as well. "It doesn't look too bad, and everything else is fine," he opens the door for her. "You're free to go. Just be sure to come back if that coughing gets worse."

"Will do, Doc. Thanks, bye." within moments Cosima is out the door, grin on her face and happy to be free. The boy and his mother from the waiting room are gone.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN<strong>

**Hola you all. I think I like where this is going. Maybe a little dry this chapter, but we needed some padding and groundwork for what's to come. Thanks for reading, feel free to favorite or comment!**

Dear Guest: **I am glad to be your lead dog and drag you through this story! Please, continue to follow blindly. Beware my wagging tail. :) Also, I am an English speaker, born and raised in the US, but thanks for the compliment anyway! ^^ Before, by mistakes, I meant grammatical or spelling or such. I'm prone to making a lot of mistakes, and I don't have a beta to correct them so whatever I see I fix. Which... can sometimes be a little confusing, but it's not too bad. Still, thanks though!**

OBshipper: **Lol, you won't have to wait long~ Or will you? Dum dum dum! Thanks for the support man! Glad you're liking this.**


	6. Chapter 6

It's the night before her paper's due when she has that dream again. Just like all the dreams before, it starts out with her drinking coffee and studying in the study quad of the library. As with all the dreams before, this one's a little different than the rest. Though she can't remember what happens in the dream when she's awake, when she's asleep it all comes flooding back. Her heart aches for Delphine, but she needs to play it out. She's not the one in control of this dream; hell, she's not even sure her subconscious is the part of her that's in control of this dream. The bottom line is that Cosima can't change what happens in it. She's just a character- a main character- but a character nonetheless.

She thinks she notices the difference right away.

She's conscious for this one. Asleep, but conscious. In other words, she thinks she'll remember this when she wakes up.

Things aren't as fuzzy as they'd been previously. She's aware of her movements and of what she's about to do. Cosima suddenly understands her need to shout out the words _I love you _to perfect strangers, why she searches their faces. She's looking for _Hers. _She's specifically looking for Delphine. Her heart leaps into her throat, though. It chokes her. It blinds her. She doesn't see Delphine anywhere here. When she tries to focus on her books, on attempting to study, all she can think about is getting to the one she's met over and over again in these dreams. Cosima wants to study her instead. She wants to look upon her face and memorize all it's curves and edges, and she wants to remember it when she wakes up.

Dear Darwin, she hope she remembers it.

The coffee has been sitting there awhile. It's lost the will to keep Cosima awake. She understands why, when she drinks it, it tastes like loneliness. Delphine's not here. And the stain on the table from where the coffee leaked out from a hole in the cup, she notices when her body starts to stand in this dream, is a battle scar. The bag, when it's slung over her shoulder, is weighted down so heavily with the books and at this point it's all she can do to move. How long had she been sitting there, waiting? How long had she been waiting on Delphine before she went out to find her?

And the walk, so very brutally cold and crisp. She notices the snow when she pulls her red coat tighter. The grey of early down before the sun actually rises, around seven in the morning more or less. The walk seems as long as it is for her when she's actually awake and walking from campus to her apartment, no more than ten or fifteen minutes. The bird that started to sing, with the brown and red wing, was a finch. The irony of it recalled Dr. Leekie's lecture previously. Why are the two connected? The bird flew overhead and out of sight, taking it's merry tune with it.

It's like there are two parts of her. Outwardly, she's calm if completely exhausted and cold. Her limbs drag with a sort of fluidity. The bags under her eyes are heavy, and her eyes burn with tired tears she has to keep wiping away. This part of her, the subconscious part of her that feels all of the effects of the dream, has no knowledge of what is to come. The inner part of her, the conscious part, the one that is committing all of these moments to memory- because she will do anything not to forget this time- is anxious and screaming to go faster, to run, to find Delphine. This conscious part of her is confident about something, however. She thinks that she might be able, for a few minutes at least, or maybe for a moment, break the cycle. In other words, with a press of her consciousness, she might be able to take control of this dream. Cosima may not have to follow the rules, may be able to have a conversation with a woman who doesn't exist without it being scripted.

Delphine, she hums internally. That is the woman's name isn't it? Her curiosity is killing her because even in her memory from all the dreams previous she can't recall what the woman looked like, only the velvety tone of her voice. The comfort of it. The allure and sensuality with each syllable. Delphine has an accent. Delphine speaks another language. More than that though, Delphine is-

There it is! Her building. Rough around the edges, although there's a wonderfully creative mural stretching down the length of one side. She tries to force her subconsciousness into loosening the reins, but it fights back. Her body starts to search her bag for keys. The sound of a child's laughter, the boy and his mother. When she peeks over, they're the same pair from her the waiting room at the health clinic. She's fighting for control. Both her consciousness and her subconsciousness are losing energy. The dream world starts to lose its color. It starts to fade.

_No! _she tries to say. _No, I don't want to wake up! Delphine!_

Her subconsciousness is starting to get worried now. She's not sure if this is a new feeling; if it's worried that she's fighting back, or if it's worried about not being able to get in the building.

The kitten mewls. The trunk of the taxi cab slams. Things are starting to get fuzzy. _Admit it,_ part of herself presses, _this is just a dream. Delphine is just a dream. No more than a figment of your imagination. Admit it. Admit it, she doesn't exist-_

_No! No, I can't wake up! I can't wake up! Delphine! I just need to see her-_

_She doesn't exist-_

_I need to see her-_

_She doesn't exist-_

_I just need to see-_

Delphine. The aroma of coffee. Suddenly, Cosima stumbles into control. Everything falls back into color, into motion and action and sound. It's disconcerting and it rushes to her head, making her feel faint. The world around the edges of her vision blacken, and she literally stumbles. Her glasses fall off her face. The script is broken.

Cosima suddenly feels an arm around her, catching her, slipping her glasses back up her face. The action alone is different than it would've been. "Bon matin," it's her. Holy watershed, it's her. She's _French._ "Long day?"

Delphine is tall and blonde with shoulder length, soft curls. There's an adorable beauty mark placed just beneath her lower lip. Her big, brown, doe eyes have a smokiness to them, a barely aware quality that's more than likely due to the coffee in her hand. She's waiting for Cosima to say her line, to continue the verbal script, but Cosima can't say anything from the shock.

Delphine blinks suddenly, a sort of confusion in her eyes. "Bon matin," she says again. "Long day?" Cosima tries to swallow the fear in her throat. Her subconscious is fighting her, now. It's difficult to maintain control. "Long day?" Delphine repeats, blinking again. Her brow is creased in thought, and she shakes her head as if trying to convince herself of something. Her mouth opens, and closes, the arm that was holding Cosima falling away. "Long... hmm..." Something strange strikes Delphine's face, and when she blinks the recognition is there. "Godzilla?"

Her dream broke the script, Delphine broke the script, and it's quite a surprise. She didn't think her dream would be able to, though her consciousness encouraged something new to happen. Why did Delphine jump to Godzilla?

"No," Cosima struggles to say, licking her chapped lips with a dry tongue. Her subconscious is lashing out at her, painfully. This isn't how the dream is supposed to go. "My name is Cosima."

"Maybe," Delphine says, bewildered. "But you're the girl from Dr. Leekie's class. The one who compared herself to Godzilla."

How does she know about that? Cosima wonders. How can she know?

"Listen, Delphine," the world is starting to become gray again. Her subconscious has rallied and is rearing it's ugly head. Her words are choking out of her now, "There's something I have to tell you."

Delphine herself appears to be struggling with something, "How are you- how are you here?"

Cosima tries to spit out the words, "I- I- This is my dream, and I-" Like a rubber band, the dream suddenly snaps again back into watercolors and fuzziness. Cosima's consciousness retreats, and she's no longer aware of what's going on. Her body takes on a sort of visceral expression. Devoid of actual emotion or life, just a dream.

Delphine soon falls back into the formalities of the dream as well, after adopting an almost permanent expression of confusion.

They're both back to the script.

_"Bon matin," _the woman says after she takes another swallow, looking at the other. _"Long day?"_

And there, at the strike of conversation dangling at the edge of her lips...

* * *

><p>Delphine wakes up with a gasp. Her face is hot and sticky with sweat. Her hair tangled and matted to her head. Her sheets are twisted around her body, tangled with her limbs and uncomfortable, evidence of her moving around feverishly in her sleep. But, and she could swear it felt so realistic, she had the strangest dream last night...<p>

What was it about again?

She doesn't really remember. All there is, is the memory of a woman's face. Someone she's sure she's seen somewhere before. In fact, she's almost positive that she's had this dream before. And there was something about Godzilla, she thinks? It's pressing on her mind, urging her to remember, but it's not all that important.

Her subconscious comes up with the strangest things.

She takes a moment to languidly stretch out her body, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, before disentangling herself from her bed sheets. Delphine walks to the shower, turning the water on full blast. She pulls out of her night clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor as she steps under the comforting beam. There's a discordant chord in her routine, nagging at her, but she's not sure what it is so she let's it keep playing. Over, and over again in the back of her mind like the lowest singular note of a bass guitar. What is it she's forgetting? What is she forgetting to do?

She continues about her morning. Dresses for work. Throws up her hair in a tight bun. Eats some toast smattered with jelly, drinks a welcoming cup of coffee. She brushes her teeth and moisturises her face. She slips on her shoes, grabs her keys and her work bag, and heads out for the day.

Dr. Leekie, her boss, teaches a college lecture class two or three times a week for a couple of hours a day. They're the bright future of science, he explains in reference to the university students. He wants to see what the future has to offer. It makes sense to her, she supposes. He's a strong supporter for neolution, the belief that human beings can use science to direct their evolution as a species. If that's the case, why shouldn't he direct the "evolution" of science? In this case, the students?

Delphine only thinks on this because he'd asked her to sit in on some of his lectures. She really has no time in the day. She should be working back at DYAD. However, Dr. Leekie is her boss. Though he understands where she's coming from, she can't really say no to him. And, admittedly, Dr. Leekie has a brilliant mind. It's astounding, what he teaches in his classes. Though she's not quite certain as to the true reason she's asked to sit in on these lectures, she knows it's not to be a student herself.

This, for some reason, brings to mind one of his lectures. Not everyone, she knows, is as interested as she is in what Dr. Leekie has to say. Not everyone is as interested in science. Most of his lectures, the students are sleeping or barely paying attention. How any one of them hoped to pass their final, Delphine wouldn't care to say. There was one student, however, that stuck out in her mind. The student, a woman perhaps a few years younger than herself, always had her hand up, always had a question or comment to make. Dr. Leekie pointed her out to Delphine once as she walked in the room.

"That right there," he'd said. "Is the future of science."

He spoke as if he knew something that neither she, Delphine, or the student herself knew. Delphine wondered if maybe he hoped someday to offer her a job at DYAD. Part of her hoped so. She knew how difficult it could be, still, to work one's way up through the industry. Being a woman has it's advantages, but also it's disadvantages. Social biases could sometimes royally suck. Not that it was a big concern for her, either way. She'd already worked her way up. Currently, she had a job to do. Dr. Leekie wanted her to attend his lectures for some reason, he wouldn't ask her to do it out of the kindness of his heart. Their work at DYAD was too important for that. Delphine just has yet to figure out what that reason is.

It was with those thoughts that she walked out the door, got in her car, and drove to work. Today was not a day in which she was required to attend lecture. Today was not a day in which she would see that student again.

(Curiously enough, a fleeting thought deemed well enough to point out that, that student was also the one to talk about Godzilla. Such a strange thing to talk about. Such a strange dream...)

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN<strong>

**We're working our way towards them actually coming face to face. And, maybe, eventual tragedy. Soon you'll see. It takes time to work each layer in and dig you all a little deeper into the story. Hope it's working. Feel free to leave a comment or review below, let me know what you think. Hate it, love it, cheesy joke? I am all ears (or eyes, in this case, since you know, reading-)**

**It might take a little while longer than usual before the next chapter's posted because I get to see my sister for the first time in forever. I'm not thinking much more than a day or so, but just so you have a heads up... And yet, I'm a very weird person so who knows. Maybe the next chapter will be up in a couple of hours.**

Julielein: **First off, hi! Thanks for writing again :) Secondly, thank you so much for the complements! It's always good to know what my readers think about what I'm writing. It gives me the encouragement to keep on writing, you know? Glad that I haven't disappointed so far~**

Elenadlm: **Yeesssss! Dude, thanks so much for writing again! Glad to hear you're still enjoying it... Also, you're not the only one waiting on pins and needles for Cosima and Delphine to come face to face. (I don't think this chapter counts) I hope this one has sufficiently teased and spiked your curiosity about what's to come. ^^**

**On a side note, sorry if this chapter's a little confusing. Maybe I'm just overthinking it, but you know. In any case, I was trying to keep a little mystery about this dream thing for a while longer. Try and hang in there! Thanks again for reading :)**


	7. Chapter 7

It's funny how things in life pan out. One little action can change the course of the entire future. One little word. A change of pace. A change of belief. Life is such a little word for all that it means. It's air that's breathed. It's laughter, and voices, and song, and the chirping of birds. It's water crashing from the top of a cliff to a lake at the bottom, rolling in among the sand. It's hands held on a first date. It's the marker on a gravestone. It's people working hard in order to keep on living.

Life is rainforests and deserts and hard concrete. It's skyscrapers and dizzying roller coasters and gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. It's the Earth and the moon and the sun. Jupiter, Mars, Uranus, Pluto. Carbon dioxide and boundless space. Life is the Milky Way galaxy, and the Andromeda galaxy. It's myths and legends and beliefs. It's the taste of burnt toast, still so very delicious. Starving, poverty ridden families. A pair of glasses. The rise and fall of an empire. The birth of a new child. Money. Tree frogs. Chalk on sidewalk and flat rocks that skip across the water. Countless buzzing molecules that make up all that life is.

Life is new, and it is old, and there is too much to be named that life is comprised of. How can one fit it all into a four letter word?

It's in hopes, it's in beliefs, and it's in dreams.

When Scott comes knocking on her door at seven in the morning, Cosima is already awake. She has been awake for the last three hours. She'd woken up early this morning. And it's idiotic, the thought of it. The reason as to why she'd woken up so early. She tried so hard to remember something about it, to remember anything about it, anything about her dream. All she remembers is her attempt at remembering, the fact that for its duration she was aware, and an abnormal feeling of elation over her conquering something.

What she conquered is up to anyone's guess.

Maybe it was life.

She spent the first hour that she was awake in bed. Cosima laid there, eyes wide open, breathing mellow and barely existent, staring up at the ceiling, resisting the urge to cry. Her throat felt closed up, and her eyes stung. She had to clear it several time in order to shake the feeling away. The loud, monstrous sounds of her _Ahem_s scared even her in the dark. When all was quiet, her throat felt scratchy but the overall emotional turmoil was gone. Cosima couldn't figure out why she wanted to cry. From happiness? That elation she felt? There was something more to it than that.

Cosima didn't feel heartbroken.

In fact, if she knew any better, she'd swear that the feeling budding in her chest was hope.

The second hour she spent finalizing her essay for today. Rereading it, retyping it, finalizing it and reprinting it before repeating the process over and again. Each copy of it seemed to have something wrong with it that needed to be fixed, and whenever Cosima fixed it she'd have the paper with ink still drying on it's written page held in her hand she'd realize that there had been nothing wrong with it in the first place. She'd realize that the paper had been right from the start. With that, she'd have to start over again. Not retyping the entire document, thankfully since it was saved to the hard drive of her computer, but the parts of it she'd needed to fix. It was rather mundane work. The repetitious feel of it reminded her of her dream. Try as she might, she couldn't ever shake the thoughts of her late night encounters with the spectre of her subconscious completely from her mind. The only time she'd ever seemed close to focusing on anything else was during her studies; in classes and labs and assignments and, ironic really, in essays.

Why couldn't she escape those thoughts now?

This tedious task was mostly Cosma going through the motions. In the end, she hadn't written this essay about clones. In fact, she's barely aware of whatever it was that she wrote about. She thinks it might have something to do with the topics from a week ago. Something to do with evolution and life. She's pretty sure she played the role of the sceptic in it. Though it's boring, the facts are there as is a false perception of passion. It's not one of her best essays, but it'll do it's job. She's confident she'll get a good grade.

Reread. Rewrite. Reprint. Again.

The topic of clones, however, she went with for her dissertation. There's nothing more than a rough draft at this stage. Mindless ramblings here and there of half completed thoughts. It's not going to be due until towards the end of the next term, so Cosima has plenty of time to figure everything out. It's a paper she's looking forward to. This one, she remembers.

The last hour is spent moving as slowly as possible throughout her apartment in preparation for the day ahead. She doesn't register what clothes she throws on, but there's snow on the ground outside. There has been, for a while now or at least since her last doctor's appointment. When all's said and done, she takes the rest of the time to lay in her bed with her eyes closed and daydream.

She thinks about life.

Her parents love her, and she them, but they've always been a little distant from each other. Scientists, they are, and as such they're very interested in what they do. It's from them that she get's her passion, despite not being related by blood. Her parents could have conceived if they'd wanted to, but there would've have been a waste of about nine months. Not to mention the few early years of childhood spent changing diapers and feeding soft foods and cleaning disgusting messages. They still wanted to do some of the work, of course, but they didn't want to waste time.

Time is another part of life, or perhaps it's the lack of it.

In the end her parents were very much so fascinated with Cosima. She'd been three when she was adopted. The way her parents tell her, it was "love at first sight... of the periodic table". When they'd showed up to Cosima's foster home, to take a gander and test the waters with a child they were hoping to adopt, the saw Cosima sitting on the floor with a box of crayons and colored paper. On it was a rudimentary periodic table; labeled incorrectly, not at all shaped the right way, the letters barely more than squiggles because she clearly hadn't learned yet how to write. But her parents asked to see it, so she showed it to them wearing a gigantic smile and bouncing around on the balls of her feet enthusiastically, and they knew she would be the perfect addition to their family.

Though there was that distance between them, Cosima chalked it up to being adopted. To being raised in a family of scientists. This is also her explanation as to the distant feeling she feels around Sarah. Though related by blood, they weren't raised as family. They hadn't even known the other existed.

It's safe to say Cosima thought long and hard about life.

Scott knocked on her door, and if he was surprised when she walked out not a moment later he didn't show it. She had a scarf wrapped around her throat, the loose ends tucked into her red coat. It was snowing again. Cosima doesn't much like the cold.

Her apartment building was located right across the street from a place called _The Closet. _She calls it a "place" loosely, since there really isn't any way to describe the rather dapper looking two story building. By day, _The Closet _was a cafe. It's where Cosima would normally walk in before class each morning to buy a quick breakfast and, on days like today, some hot cocoa. By night, _The Closet _was something else completely. The counter where she'd have bought her morning meal would be converted into a bar. Though the place still offered coffee to any interested, once it hit five o'clock the place heavily served alcohol and good music until the early hours of the morning.

There's a joke among both it's daytime and nighttime patrons. What happens in the closet, stays in the closet... until it comes out of the closet. It's a place of romance, escape, and fun. It doesn't restrict it's costumers in terms of who's allowed to walk through the door. _The Closet _is friendly to anyone and everyone. A place to hang up her coat and drink away the world for little while. Also, they serve the best donuts.

The only reason Cosima's thinking about this, as they walk passed, is due to how stressed and out of it she's been recently. It's also due to how much she missed her favorite bartender, incidentally the only one who's ever been there whenever Cosima strolls in.

Though exams start next week and she really should be studying, Cosima thinks that maybe it's time that she took a little break from her education in order to visit _The Closet._

The day passes normally. Cosima manages to turn in her essay to Dr. Leekie relatively unscathed. He'd noted her absentmindedness today and asked what was up as she handed the paper to him. Cosima didn't really explain. She played it off as stress for next week's exams and waved it away. She doesn't share this class with Scott, those happen the day she has lab, and the two of them split up once they'd reach his first class. Most of her classes took place in the same building as Dr. Leekie's, so she didn't have to go far for her next one.

All of her other classes for the day have just finished. Perching her bag on her shoulder, Cosima proceeds to leave the building to go home. Tonight was the night she'd decided to kick back and relax, remember. Just hang out at the bar cafe (or maybe it's cafe bar?) with the bartender and some of the regulars. She's in often enough to have a couple sort of friends. There's some phlegm stuck in her throat, that damn cold still eating away at her lungs and nose, that she attempts to wash down by drinking some water from a water fountain. When she stands up, she wipes away some cool water that dripped from her mouth with the sleeve of her coat. As she walks down the hall, she notices a familiar blonde leaving Dr. Leekie's classroom.

It's the biggest twist of fate, Cosima thinks with a grin. Completely ironic. "Bobby?" she questions in a louder tone, to get the woman's attention.

She turns around to look at Cosima, her blonde bob with the dyed pink tips waving airily at the movement. It barely takes a second for her to recognize the other girl. "Cosima," she answers with a wide smile. The bartender immediately begins to walk over. "I didn't know you had classes here," she says once you're standing face to face.

"Well, yeah," Cosima shrugs. "I'm a little bit of a science nerd, I've been taking classes here for a few years now. You?"

Bobby's twirling part of her hair absentmindedly around her fingers as she talks. "This is my first year. I dropped out of college the first time around. Didn't have the finances to keep it up then, you know? But now I've got a pretty good job at _The Closet. _It's steady, and the income's outstanding. Russell's not a bad guy to work with either."

The two begin to walk side by side down the hallway, a mutual though unspoken agreement to leave together. "Russell's your boss?" Cosima asks.

"Uh-huh. Also a family friend, so he get's the whole education thing," she says, and the conversation lulls for a moment. Their shoulders brush every now and again. They hadn't even noticed, but once they'd walked out of the doors they stepped closer to each other. The weather was cold enough to bite, and standing so close warmed them.

"It's kind of fantastic that I ran into you," Cosima admits, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to bring some heat back into them. It's still snowing from earlier that day. The flakes are large and clumped together, sticky and fat. It clings to their hair.

"Oh yeah?" there's a teasing smile on Bobby's face. "Why's that?"

Cosima decides to take the bait, "Because I want free beer." Her eyes have that mischievous look to them. "I was actually just going to head back to my apartment to drop this crap off before heading to _The Closet_ to see you."

Bobby laughs lightly, "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm off tonight."

Smiling flirtatiously, Cosima asks her companion in a sultry voice, "Is that an invitation?"

Bobby eyes her slowly up and down from behind her own glasses, "Only if you're buying."

"Why, Miss Salvatore, I think we have a deal," their faces are pink from the cold and their light flirtation as they walk away from the college. Both of them are equally excited to hang out tonight at the bar. They'd been playing this game for a while now, and Cosima thinks that maybe tonight will be the night it becomes something more.

Cosima suddenly sees someone out of the corner of her eye, and she discreetly points her out to Bobby, who in turns swivels her head to look. "I think that's the woman I slapped the other day."

Bobby squints a little at where Cosima's pointed, "The blonde?"

"Who else?"

Bobby sticks her tongue out at Cosima, who laughs. She then asks, "Why would you slap her?"

"I don't know," they're both looking at the blonde now, who's standing outside one of the other science buildings smoking a cigarette. "I thought she might like it rough."

"You thought she might like it rough?" Bobby repeats dryly as they keep walking.

"If you're insinuating that my slapping her was actually an accident, then stop right there because I don't make mistakes," Cosima flips her dreads mock-seriously, then sticks her nose up in the air in a superior kind of way. A smile tries to break out on her lips, only noticeable in a light twitch.

Bobby rolls her eyes, laughing to herself, "Of course you don't." They're both passed the blonde woman now and well on their way to the apartment. "Do you know her name?" she asks curiously.

"No. Not really," Cosima looks behind her, staring over her shoulder as the campus disappears from view as if she could still see the woman. "Aside from that time I slapped her and shoved all her belongings off the table during a lecture, we haven't spoken a word to each other at all." The mood is sort of melancholy for a moment. Cosima smirks. "But enough about her," she says. "It's you I'm interested in..." Cosima purposely pauses, "Talking to. I'll meet you at the bar at six?"

Her friend smiles, "Sounds perfect."

* * *

><p>Delphine stepped outside for a cigarette, yet somehow the nicotine wasn't satisfying her restless thoughts. The girl from Dr. Leekie's class walked passed her, standing close to another girl and talking animately, arms waving around in an exuberant way. It was reluctantly cute. She thinks she saw them pause in their conversation for a moment, and they turned to look at her, before they started talking again. It wasn't long before they were out of sight.<p>

Dr. Leekie had told her why she was attending some of his classes today, told her why he needed her here. Though she doesn't know all of the facts yet, it's enough to send her out for a smoke. It has to do with the brunette that just walked passed. He wants Delphine, the "stranger" in this equation, to befriend the girl and ask her to participate in a faux-medicinal survey, the likes of which she doesn't know the details of yet. He's looking for something in the girl. Nothing particularly alarming or noticeable, but something none the less.

It seems unimportant to Delphine, what he's asking her to do. Go up to the student, ask her some random questions, and that's it? She's been attending Leekie's lectures for that reason? To make Delphine seem like another student to the girl? Delphine could've been working in her lab. Instead she's stuck working with school children. It's ridiculous.

Delphine lets out a stream of smoke before stubbing out the cigarette on the bottom of her shoe and tossing it in a trashcan. Then, walking through about an inch or two of accumulated snow, she heads to her car. Driving is different here than it was in France. She thinks she could use a drink.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:<strong>

Julielein: **Aw, shucks! ^^ That's so nice of you to say! To be honest, I wasn't so sure about how well I was doing with this fic, but I think I'm a little more confident about this now. So glad you like this! Thanks!**

**Everyone else, thanks for reading! Feel free to comment or favorite or do whatever you wanna do! Also, please don't kill me for what I'm going to do! I will say that love is in the air~ Mwah hah ha ha...**


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